Out of the Reign
by Jecht Breaker
Summary: AU, 3rd year, set in 2013! Harry was not yet 13 & was made to clear out the Dursley's attic once he arrived home. There he found his mothers old trunk. In it he found her textbooks with notes and cheats. She had written journals with "cheats" & rules for muggle-born students to survive the Wizarding World. Harry used her experiences to become a better person, more cunning, & able.
1. Discoveries

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Harry Potter._

**Out of the Reign**

**Chapter I**

**Discoveries**

Harry Potter had had a hectic year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and now he had to clean out the attic.

He had arrived home, had lunch, which he would say was pitiful. He wasn't fed much while at home with his relatives. Though, he honestly couldn't say he considered the Dursley's house his home, just a place he stayed during the summer holidays.

After he finished his pitiful meal he was give a chore list that consisted of cleaning out the attic, and his usual list of things to clean up after the lazy... people, and he used the word people lightly. Then garden work, but he actually liked that as it got him some fresh air and away from the Dursley's.

The Dursley's consisted of three people. They were his bony greying blonde aunt who was his mothers' sister. She hated her sister Lily. He had come to the conclusion that she might have been jealous that her sister, his mother had been born with magical powers and she hadn't. He felt that she might have convinced herself that wizards and witches, or mage if he were to use a more unisex term, were dangerous.

He would admit she might have a point. He had only been in the magical world for two years, since he was eleven years old, and he had almost died more than once.

However, he had met just as many good people as bad, so it evened out a little. The rest tended if his last year was anything to go by, to follow the most popular conclusion no matter the idiotic without thinking for themselves.

He had been accused of being the heir of Slytherin and attacking muggle-born students and petrifying them, even though one of his best friends was muggle-born, and he was just twelve years old. He wondered whether that even crossed their minds until his muggle-born friend, Hermione Granger was petrified by the monster of the Chamber of Secrets.

He still couldn't fathom how in the end he had been the hero, like out of the comic books he sometimes read while in the muggle world to while away the hours. He could buy all he needed or wanted now he was a part of the magical world and had a nice sized trust fund.

Harry had saved the kidnap victim. She had been possessed by the sixteen year old spirit of Tom Marvolo Riddle. His name was an anagram that spelt: 'I am Lord Voldemort'. Harry ended up killing the basilisk, whose stare could kill with a jewelled sword that once belonged to the house founder Godric Gryffindor.

It was fortunate that no one had looked directly into the giant serpents eyes. It was all a fluke. Those that had been petrified, had lucked out because they only caught the reflection of its eyes, unlike fifty years back when it killed an innocent girl.

Ginny Weasley had been his best friend, Ronald Weasley's sister, and he hadn't thought about it at the time. He had been too caught up in his own drama. She must have been traumatised and he hadn't thought to speak to her about it. He had heard somewhere, probably from Hermione that it's good to talk about these things with people who had been through similar situations.

His Uncle Vernon was a large man with greying brown hair and moustache that twitched when angry. Harry sometimes equated him to a rampaging rhino when he was furious, which tended to be a lot, especially when Harry was around. He hadn't a clue whether his uncle was pleasant when he wasn't around or not.

Harry wasn't too sure what his problem with mage was. As far as he knew, the only mage Uncle Vernon had ever known was his Nephew Harry. This meant that his Aunt Petunia had told him 'all' about the magical people. It annoyed the young boy thinking about it, but there was nothing he could really do to convince him that not all mage were jerks, just like not all muggles were nice.

His Cousin Dudley was like his father in many ways. He was like a small, baby rhino in size but took after his mother with a mop of blonde hair on his head. He just copied the adults when it came to treating Harry like crap, but with the added ignorance about physical violence.

Because the adult Dursley's had let Dudley get away with bullying Harry, he had progressed to other kids, believing that he could. Harry used to get blamed by parents for everything Dudley did because Vernon and especially Petunia would pass the blame even if he couldn't have because he was nowhere near.

Adults being adults believed them. He had heard some rumours that parents were getting wise to Dudley. Harry wondered why they didn't ask their kids, and if they did, what happened, but he shouldn't dwell on stuff like that.

Dudley would only end up in jail if he carried on the way he was: a spoilt brat. Hopefully something would fall and Dudley would look at himself and learn that he was going down the path to a young offender's institute.

Harry was quite different to the rest of the family. He wasn't too scrawny as Hogwarts had fed him more than just well. He wasn't large either. He was slender. He had bright emerald green eyes and ruffled black hair that looked as if he could have made it that way purposefully.

However, in the magical world he had nice brand new clothes. In the muggle world he had to wear his behemoth cousins' hand-me-down rubbish that was at least five times too large on him.

That left him thinking as he pulled down the ladder trapdoor to the attic. The Dursley's wouldn't care to open it for him. It had taken him as while.

He wondered why he didn't just change up some magical people money into muggle pounds to buy some nice new clothes. He felt like smacking himself for being so stupid and made a quick mental note for when he went shopping for his school supplies.

Climbing up the ladder into the dark of the attic he found the light pull string and bathed the space in light. It wasn't very large, but that was expected as it was only a semidetached house.

The floor was covered in bored to walk on. It was just drywall, but he didn't have to worry as he was light enough to move on them. It was probably the main reason the Dursley's 'trusted' him.

His aunt wouldn't have wanted to enter the dark, dusty, and bug infested space while Dudley was spoilt so he would never be in the running, and Harry wasn't sure his Uncle Vernon could even fit through the trapdoor, let-a-lone move on the boards without falling through the ceiling.

Sighing, he had been told to throw all the old junk out. If it were up to him, he would throw out the crap and save the useful things, and hopefully a charity shop would appreciate them, but nope, not with these dirt bags.

It had taken him over two hours to clear out boxes, going through them to make sure nothing important was thrown out when he came across a large oak trunk. It was dusty, but certainly looked like it was worth quite a lot of money by itself.

It had an L and an E engraved into a beautiful silver plaque. It had flowers around the rim as the silver travelled around the edges of the lips. He ran his fingers across the smooth wood wiping off the thick layers of dust. He couldn't quite believe that the Dursley's would own such an elegant piece of furniture. They only had tat decorating their house and they thought that was upper-middle class.

He had a moment where he thought about leaving it alone. However, his curiosity got the better of him, even though it often got him into trouble.

Harry couldn't help himself as he found the silver clasp wondering whether he could sneak it to his room. He found the release button and pushed it. The clasp flipped open and the lid popped up slightly as if it had been waiting years to show him what was inside, and it was bursting with excitement.

He felt his hands shaking as he pulled the lid open, and he didn't know why until he saw inside. It lay to the side of the trunk, with books and other things that shouldn't have fit inside. It was a broom.

It wasn't just any broom.

It was a Stratus racing broom.

His mouth fell open in awe as he put his hand around the slender, varnished cherry wood handle. It only took a slight tug for it to come loose, out of the trunk. He had heard his best friend Ron talking about brooms enough to know that he held a very rare and expensive broom in immaculate condition.

The broom had spiralling silver letters on the handle. The twigs at the end were all perfectly straight and perfectly cut.

He could feel the magic still in perfect balance running through his fingers. He could almost cry. It was special for more than its age and rarity. He realised what the L and E stood for as he looked to the silver plate on the top of the inside of the lid.

"Property of Lily Evans," he muttered quietly as he used his free hand. He was running his fingers over the letters on the plate.

He was kneeling as he looked into his mother school trunk. He placed down her old broom; his new broom. He could not wait to fly it. It would be a waste to leave it in the trunk, and he would never sell it.

It was so much more important than his Nimbus could hope to be. It was a connection to his family. It was a connection to his mother. His aunt must have forgotten about the trunk. He would have never gotten it back, if his aunt had her way... It was his now.

He looked further into the trunk. It had books from every year she spent at Hogwarts, and then some more beside that, a lot more, along with some journals. She must have been quite the scholar. She had written notes in all of her text books. They were littered with useful tips and tricks, proving she was as smart, if not smarter than everyone said.

She was smarter than Hermione for sure, and didn't have a problem with defacing books, but better, she didn't have a problem with questioning the validity of the books, or realising new and improved methods that yielded better results. He doubted he could be as smart as his mother, but he could give it a try.

He almost laughed as he looked in his mothers' year three potions textbook. She would have been more qualified to teach potions than Snape. He had the talent. Harry wouldn't deny that, but he couldn't teach, and Harry was sure he didn't actually want to. It was likely the only job he could get.

Lily Evans had created shortcuts and new methods for extracting the real components for the potions to work. Harry was awed that just squeezing out the juice instead of cutting up a bean would bring near perfect results.

Laughing seemed like the right thing to do. He couldn't wait to see the look on Snape's greasy face when he did so well. He would have to try to find a way to practice, or at least memorise the additions. That wouldn't be too hard as he hoped to read and reread everything. He had never had such a connection to his mother before. She was just a smart and kind muggle-born witch to most people he asked. Did anyone truly know his mother inside and out?

He knew more about his father because more people wanted to praise and glamorise him as a great person. Harry knew it was likely because they saw they looked alike, but mentally he was sure he was more like his mother or he would prank any and everyone on sight. Though, thinking of certain Slytherin's maybe he should give pranking a try, just to see what happens.

It might be in the blood somewhere.

He shook away that thought with a small smile before he picked up a diary. He felt weird opening the book. He didn't want to invade his mother privacy, but he had to, so that he could find out who she was.

He noticed that it had some writing on the inside of the cover of the book, and read through it. His eyes widening with everything he read. His mother must have been a genius beyond her years at school, and cunning.

_First, the trace is a myth. They only track muggle-born students until they reach the age of seventeen through use of warding areas they would frequent that are non-magical, and then to make matters worse, they don't detect the magic user, just magic, so they have on many occasions accused muggle-born students of magic even without proof._

_The Rules of Survival_

_Rule 1: NEVER GIVE UP YOUR WAND!_

Harry quivered as he read those words. He wondered whether she found out too much and got a little paranoid. That diary wasn't her first by the tiny scrawl of year 4 in the top corner.

"That explains how and why they accused me of using magic last year when it was a House-Elf," he muttered to himself, and wondering why they didn't detect him teleporting.

_They can never prove anything, so as long as you send in a reply to the Misuse of Magic Office informing them that they made a mistake they will remove any strikes against your name. If you don't dispute it, they might use that as proof of admission of guilt._

He made a quick mental note to send a letter to the Misuse of Magic office to refute the claim. He could even call in Dobby the House-Elf responsible if they said it was too late, since Harry had gotten him freed from the Malfoy family. The silly oddball elf owed him for that stunt.

_However, like with everything in life there are always cheats. I designed a wand attachment in my fifth year that acted like a silencer on a muggle gun, which is why I'm writing it here with my notes on magical lore containing to muggles and muggle-born mystics. _

_The wand silencer as I have taken to calling it allows the muggle-born mage to use magic without the wards 'hearing' the spells. _

_As long as your wand contains the attachment and the wand is on your person, or within several inches of you, even accidental magic will be silenced._

_I had no way to mass produce the wand silencer as the ministry would outlaw it as soon as they found out. Therefore, I created only one, using it for myself, so that I could practice magic at home like purebloods could._

Harry finished reading that with a frown. He looked through the trunk when he found something. It was black. It looked like rock. It was an angled black ring. It had what he knew from his friend Hermione's obsession with books were runes perfectly engraved in it.

It looked too big for his wand, and when he slid it on he was right. It was to the base of the handle and lose. However, he was startled when it shrunk down, closing and sealing to his wand. He was amazed. It actually made his wand look cooler.

When he looked at his wand closer he saw veins of cosmic blue coming from the silencer down the wood of his wand. It was beautiful in an odd way.

"Okay, my mum was a genius, and I'm a moron," he said to himself thoughtfully before pulling out her runology textbook and looking at it. He had thought about choosing Care of Magical Creatures with Divination as his minimum required electives because Ron wanted him to because he was, because they were the two easiest classes.

However, his mother had not chosen the simple solution so why should he? He knew he wasn't really stupid. He had gotten good grades in transfiguration and Defence against the Dark Arts, even though the latter had yet to have a good teacher, likely because he was good at practical work. He had gotten some good grades in charms too, and though not good he passed potions.

Though, thinking on that, he hadn't tried very hard. Ron had always distracted him from studying, and then he would secretly admit that the more Hermione nagged him to study the more he refused.

He sighed as he sat down to get comfortable and rummaged in the trunk. He was hoping that she had some pictures he could add to his album from her time at school.

However, he hadn't the chance to explore more when his aunts' shrill voice called out to him. "Boy!" she called out. "Get downstairs now! Dudikins and your uncle are hungry, make the dinner!" she said before he listened to her hurrying away and down the stairs.

He looked to the trunk and the trapdoor before he realised he wouldn't get a better opportunity. He repacked his mothers trunk in a hurry, making sure he got everything, and closed the lid, latching it. It took him a great effort to haul it down the ladder to the landing without anyone hearing. It was lucky that it seemed to have some lightening magic on it, but that magic must have been fading.

Harry didn't want to test his wand yet. He wanted to be careful. He managed to get the trunk into his room where he knew no one would go. It was like they thought he would booby-trap his room or something with magic, even though they knew he 'wasn't' allowed to use magic outside of school.

Stashing his new trunk in the corner he quickly left for the kitchen. He ignored his aunt because that made life simpler, but once he had put some sausages in the oven, and ignoring his uncle as he entered the kitchen, grumbling that Harry wasn't frying them.

The large man sat at the table watching as Harry peeled the potatoes and completely ignored the deep fat fryer as he cut them up and put them in a pan of water. However, the man didn't complain further when Harry pulled out a large can of beans to sit ready for the microwave.

"Boy!" Vernon said finally. Harry expected him to complain about the lack of chips being prepared, but he didn't. "Marge is coming to visit in a fortnight!" he said gruffly and Harry let his eyes widen in horror. "She was going to visit next month, but the man who usually took care of her dogs can't do it then, as his niece came into some money and chose that time to take him with her family on holiday."

Marge. Or Aunt Marge as she demanded he call her was the vilest piece of crap on the planet, in his honest opinion. She had some kind of dog breeding business, and bred pit bull terriers, among other dogs. She had her favourite. She called him Ripper, and that stupid dog was called it for a reason.

"I want you on your best behaviour, so no funny business!" he demanded, straight to the point. "There won't be any of those dumb birds arriving for you will there!?" he demanded while Petunia was pretending to preen some pot flowers.

He thought about that for a moment before answering. He figured that he might as well try the truth since the behemoth was asking politely. Though, it looked like it took everything his uncle had.

"W-well not really, just my forms for the new year," he said, shrugging. "I mean, because its third year we have to choose a couple elective classes so they send out our letters quite a bit early."

"Make sure you get rid of that bloody pigeon and its gone when she gets here!" he commanded but still he was trying not to get angry at the thought of Harry's faithful 'owl' familiar. "I don't want any of that... stuff around. She can never know what a freak you are!"

It was like a giant light bulb went off above his head like from them old cartoons he had occasionally seen on television. He had never before thought he would contemplate blackmailing anyone. However, the sorting hat did say he would have done well in Slytherin, the house for the cunning, so who was he to argue with that?

He imagined a small him on his right shoulder with little angel wings. It was a female version of him wearing glasses with long crinkly black hair wearing silk white robes. She sounded like Hermione, telling him that that kind of thing was bad, and immoral. However, a boy version with bat wings also appeared over that shoulder with long crimson hair and a wicked grin as he knocked her off and told him the Dursley's were douches so who cared.

Harry hoped he hadn't cracked open a potion from his mothers old trunk when he blinked several times and his imaginary cartoon concept was gone. He shook his head. He had just zoned out for a moment and his uncle was getting impatient. Harry took a couple more moments to think things over before he decided to try something anyway.

He had never tried manipulating them before. He wondered whether it would work. Could he trick his uncle into giving him what he wanted, and thinking it was a smart way around Marge finding out about freakishness.

"I... think we could do something, but..." he trailed off, acting as if he was scared to mention whatever it was. He had fought a seventy foot killer snake with something the snake would consider a tooth pick. He couldn't find it in him to be afraid of any human, anymore.

"But what boy!" the man demanded. "Spit it out now...!"

"Well, you know... Aunt Marge," he quickly said timidly, hated calling her that. She was Vernon's sister not Petunia's, and even then he didn't like calling her aunt. "She likes to put me down, and tell me how useless I am and everything and I can't control my emotions. Before I hadn't been powerful enough that I would do anything... funny accidently, but. She likes to criticise my baggy hand-me-down clothes, and how I look like a criminal."

"You're not having anything from us you good for nothing!" he spat out, angrily.

"Then I'm sure it's going to end badly!" he replied back surprised he hadn't backed down yet. He felt his chest pounding. His heart was beating so fast. His adrenalin was pumping 'bravery' through his veins. He could be pushing his luck, but he didn't care. If he could try to make his life even slightly more tolerable at the Dursley's it would be worth it.

"Are you threatening me, boy!?" he demanded. His face was a strong shade of purple as he stood to his full height, towering over the young magician.

"N-no, of course not!" he quickly said, taking a small step back. "I mean... she is much. If we can trick her into believing that I am a normal, non-freak, so that she'll leave me to hide away in my room for as long as I can, then we all have something to gain from it. I'll send away my owl, and make sure that Aunt Marge could never find anything magical, and you buy me the clothes and other... normal things that a twelve, nearly thirteen year old normal boy with brilliant guardians could need."

The large man looked as if he was going to rage again when he paused, looking at Harry, his eyes narrowed in thought. "So... we pretend that... you've 'changed'?" he asked while Harry readily nodded. "That you're not a freak?!" he asked, and again received another nod. "And all we need to do is buy you new clothes and some... technology... a watch... a TV... that sort of thing?"

"Exactly," he agreed, nodding his head. "That way, Marge never finds out anything, and she doesn't spend hours complaining about me when you have plenty of neighbours to complain about. Accidental m... freakishness is not just a defence to physical distress, but emotional distress."

"Pet," he said looking to his wife while she wasn't even pretending to see to the plants anymore.

She gave him a sour look. "I don't care what you do, Vernon," she said coolly. "I'm not taking him shopping. You said you needed to get to that tailors you like in London. Take him with you and do it yourself. It will be hard enough trying to make this lie look real, let alone convince Dudley to behave himself."

"I'll deal with Dudley!" he replied, sighing. "He'll listen to me!" he said before turning to Harry. "Finish dinner, and be ready in your nicest... well, most respectable clothes by ten tomorrow morning, and no funny business tomorrow while you are out with me, understand!"

"Y-yes Uncle Vernon," he said with a look of shock. He couldn't believe his luck. First his mothers trunk, and then actual new things, and he wasn't paying. He had to deal with a day out with Vernon, but he had to suffer more annoying people at Hogwarts so who cared.

He went back to making dinner, and it was over as quick as he hoped so he could get back to exploring his mother trunk. He had soon left the Dursley's to do whatever it was Dursley's did while he wasn't around.

Harry was soon eagerly diving into his mothers' trunk looking for anything and everything he could. He found moving and still photos. He had never seen any good pictures of his grandparents, either side before, but the trunk help plenty of nice pictures of his muggle grandparents.

He felt like crying as he looked at a picture with his Grandpa and Grandma Evans cooing over him when he was a small baby. They looked so young and healthy he wondered what had happened to them. He actually considered asking his Aunt Petunia. He had never heard her even mention them before.

Though, maybe he'll ask her after he had done with his scheme to get some nice new clothes and deal with Marge not pissing him off so much that he blows her up, or the house or something, not that he thought anything would last.

He would have to wait and find out. At least he wasn't being moody or stupid. He would have to see whether he was being bipolar.

_**to be continued...**_

_**A/N: **came from a challenge by Draynuy, but I'm changing some here and there so that it hopefully fits awesomely. Thanks for reading, please leave a review. I'm happy to hear what you think._


	2. Vernon's worse Nightmare

**Disclaimer:**_ I do NOT own Harry Potter!_

**Out of the Reign**

**Chapter II**

**Vernon's worse Nightmare**

Harry yawned as he had finished with the shower. He had woken up earlier than normal so that he could get the shower without his Aunt Petunia complaining that he was taking too long every ten seconds. She was annoying. She would start complaining after only a minute, if that. It was like she thought he was going to use all of the world's water supply or something.

He had his blue towel wrapped around his waist as he entered his room, smiling as he looked at his owl, Hedwig. She was standing on her perch in her cage. He had sent her with his dispute that he hadn't used magic the evening before. She had returned with a letter with ministry a seal on the back.

Smirking, he tore the mail open to discover that he had not been questioned further about the underage magic and they had even sent an apology. He could almost laugh that they were that stupid.

Shaking his head he dried himself on his towel. His body was slender with some tight muscles from all of the training he did on his broom for quidditch. It took great effort sometimes just to stay on his broom. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain could be a slave driver with the moves he forced them to do.

He wasn't sure what to think about his 'thing'. It wasn't small. It was fairly large. It was larger than the other boys in his dorm, but he had never thought much about it. He probably wouldn't have if he hadn't heard his cousin trying to brag about penis sizes that the last evening outside the front door talking with his friends, bellow Harry's window, disturbing him.

It was a tempting thought to set the record straight with Dudley's friends, having, to his disgust, seen his cousin naked a few times. The blubber had a habit of leaving his bedroom door open, and his childish brags were nothing but fairytales and wishes. Harry wondered whether witches and wizards talked about and bragged about things like that for a moment before shrugging as he didn't actually care.

Shrugging again, he would deal with that if it happened. He went to his bed where he laid out his clothes for the day. He pulled on his black boxers. The magical world actually did sell some normal things thankfully. He then pulled on his black school uniform trousers and some white socks. Then he pulled on his white school shirt, leaving the tie off and the top few buttons left undone before his black school shoes went on his feet.

His shoes weren't as nice as some he had seen in the muggle world, but they were magically comfortable. He straightened his glasses and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked pretty good considering he was wearing his school clothes. He needed to buy some bigger sizes for the new term anyway, so it didn't matter much.

Smiling he went back to his snowy owl Hedwig. She chirped happily as he stroked her soft feathers and gave her some owl treats before checking his watch. He had found it with the pile of broken toys that had belonged to Dudley at some point.

Dudley was too heavy handed with things and they ended up broken, but the watch hadn't been opened. It was expensive, chunky with orange hands and digital readout with compass. It was silver and black on thick brown leather strap around his right wrist. He would be taking a risk when he took it to the magical world, but maybe it would be okay.

He still didn't know why they couldn't just throw all of the broken things out. Dudley even dumped books and comics in his room because he could barely read, or and was too lazy anyway.

Harry didn't care much about him so shook away the thought. He sat next to his mother's trunk; pulling it open he pulled out a journal at random and opened it up. It was her sixth year book. It had writing on the inside cover like her fourth year book. He hopped up and landed to lie on his bed, holding the book to read on his bed for a while.

_The Rules of Survival_

_Rule 4: DO NOT TRUST MAGICAL LORE!_

_In all cases I have found so far, magical lore is not only flawed, but does nothing. It contradicts itself and in many cases doesn't make any logical sense. I have been told that a mage could lose their powers by breaking the terms of certain contracts, which have lots of blood signing involved._

_This is a myth. Magic seems to come from another realm altogether. I have been doing a lot of research and it seems that mage can gain access to an unknown plane of existence, what I would call a plane of creation._

_This allows us to bend the very nature of physics in our world. Magic does NOT break the Laws of Physics, but twists and changes those laws temporarily by drawing another realm of existence into ours where those laws the muggles discovered are different or are not fixed states of THAT universe._

Harry had to blink a few hundred times because he felt like his brain would melt. He wasn't sure what that meant, but for some reason his mother was saying that mage didn't have magic, but the ability to pull it from another place and use it. He was not even thirteen yet and she was sixteen, maybe a bit older when adding a rule of hers that went with what that journal covered most, and had studied a lot more than him, including her own private projects.

Shaking his head he skimmed through the book for something about her, and not her slight nuttiness with trying to screw with the belief system of the magical people. He paused a few moments later as he found mention of James Potter.

_James Potter. He was cute. He was being a prat again. He hung Severus by his ankles by that stupid spell Severus invented. I thought it was poetic punishment for creating it. I waited a moment before I tried to get James to let him down, but Severus was embarrassed. He wasn't wearing any trousers. I'll admit it was quite funny that he was wearing his robe like a dress. _

_He was a Slytherin, and I was a Gryffindor and muggle-born. _

_It was too much for him. _

_He called me a mudblood._

_It had upset me. _

_It wasn't because of the name. I never thought much of it as an insult. I love mum and dad, and even Petunia, even though she has been a right bitch since I started Hogwarts. I love all my muggle family, so why would I care if some silly pureblood thinks that the so-called dirt in my blood was a bad thing, I don't and never will._

_I was upset at the vindictiveness in the way he said it. I broke our friendship off, and I'm not sure whether I'll be able to forgive him for being so cruel. He had already been hanging around those jerk Death Eater fanboys! I fear he will eventually join Voldemort with them and he will be lost forever._

Harry stared at the book in horror. He felt sick. He agreed on the mudblood issue. He had never thought of it like that, but even though he never knew them he knew he loved his muggle grandparents just as much as they loved him from the new photos he had.

_However..._

"Mom was friends with Snape!" he said in disgust, shivering. He sighed as he put the book back into the trunk. He would get back to that when he could stomach reading about Snape. He would have to skim over them parts, because the only thing he would want to do about Snape is kick him in the teeth.

He could hear his relatives moving around the house and looked to his watch. He hadn't realised the time wasting away. He only had about an hour until his trip into London so he flipped himself up and grabbed his stuff, just in case. He pulled out his wand and used the one spell he knew would do him well, so he looked for it.

It was a Notice me Not charm. It was quite simple, and easy to put on his new trunk to hide it from any snoops, just in case. The trunk belongs to him no matter what anyone else might say they could get lost.

He then left the room as he needed some breakfast if he could get it. He was hungry and had a very long day ahead of him.

The kitchen had his uncle and aunt. His aunt was making some breakfast and his uncle was ready to leave the house, dressed in a black suit with white shirt and tie. It actually made him look smart rather than douchy.

"Good boy!" Vernon startled him. "I don't want to have to wait around, and you look respectable enough!" he finished gruffly as he went to help his aunt, or take over, but she shooed him away to sit at the table for a change in pace.

He was quite baffled as she placed a plate of scrambled egg and toast in front of him as well as Vernon. It wasn't as much as her husband got, but for once it wasn't scrapings' either. He was quite befuddled, but wasn't going to mention anything, so he devoured his breakfast in a timely but clean manner as he wouldn't want to dirty up his shirt and leave Vernon waiting while he changed it.

It was a few minutes later that Harry followed his uncle out to the driveway where two cars sat parked. The car on the left was a blue people carrier, which they actually owned. The one car on the right was a silver Mercedes, which was a company car.

Harry wasn't sure what his uncle did for the drill manufactures but it had to be something important to get that kind of car. It was practically brand new too. His uncle had only got it the summer before. Harry remembered how tedious it was to hear him talking about the new car, and trying to brag to the neighbours without them realising he was being a braggart.

"Front!" his uncle grunted roughly as the car unlocked with a press of the button on the remote control he held. Harry gave him a look of surprise as he had reached for one of the backdoor handles. "I'm not your flipping driver! You'll stay where I can keep my eyes on you!"

Harry shrugged, not really caring as he climbed in the front seat next to his uncle. He had never actually ridden in the front seat of any vehicle before, so it was a novel experience. He had never been in such a fancy and impressive car before either. It had all the modern conveniences like sat-nav, stereo system with phone docking terminal for the hands free, and then more.

He pulled on his seatbelt as he looked around the interior. The seats were leather and there were buttons on his door and on a panel on the seats by his legs. He had plenty of room but the seat was lying back a bit too much that he couldn't see very well out of the window.

His uncle started the car by placing the remote in a slot and pressing the start button. His people carrier was nothing like that and used a key. He noticed that his uncle adjusted the seat slightly with the buttons by his legs so looked down to find one with a picture that looked as if it controlled the back rest and soon it was sitting upright when his uncle pulled on his seatbelt and pulled out of the drive without another word.

They had just hopped on the duel carriageway after several minutes while Harry was admiring the smooth and comfortable ride. The sun was out and bright, but lowered the sun visor like his uncle to protect his eyes.

Harry's uncle broke the silence, nearly making him jump. "Okay, boy-!" he began but paused. "I-I mean Harry!" he corrected swallowing hard as if saying his name hurt. "First we're going to my tailors, so I want you on your best behaviour. I've been going to this place for a long time. We're going to get you a few respectable suits, and you can get rid of them... school uniform?" he managed to ask.

Harry nodded his head. "Umm... yeah," he quickly agreed before his uncle burst.

"You're getting too big for them!" he rushed out, sounding annoyed. "Then," he continued. "I think we'll take you to the opticians, get you a check up and some new and respectable glasses. I managed to get you squeezed in later to a Specsavers near my tailors so that should be easy.

"Then we'll head to the shopping centre to get you some more casual everyday clothes, and some... normal things for your room. I want you to sort through Dudley's broken rubbish that is in your room. Anything worth keeping, keep it. He obviously doesn't care. Then throw all of the broken rubbish away. If we're going to persuade my sister that you're normal and not a freak we need to go all the way.

"I've already called a local decorator who got some good praise from that busybody from next-door, and everybody knows her standards. I know the dimensions of the room and already picked out some carpet online last night for a good price. The decorator said he'll be able to fit some, so all we need is a new bed, wardrobe, draws, TV, and Laptop to make everything look good. So clear up that room when we get home, and make sure that no freakishness is left lying around for when he arrives Saturday morning, understand?"

"Y-yes Uncle Vernon!" he quickly replied with wide eyes. He couldn't quite believe his uncle would go through all of that trouble. Though, thinking of it, Harry hadn't seen Marge while he was going to Hogwarts, so his uncle was grasping at a chance to keep her oblivious and in the complete dark about what Harry was.

The quiet returned after that with his uncle turning on the radio, but kept the volume low enough that they could have a conversation if they needed too. It was just Radio 1 playing some of the latest hits with some news and other things occasionally.

Harry decided he was going to try his luck with some conversation. "Umm... Uncle Vernon?" he asked to get his attention. The man grunted to show he was listening. "I've... well, been thinking and stuff... umm. Well, I know you don't like me asking questions and stuff, but I think that's kind of a moot point now. Umm... what happened to my grandparents... on my mother's side?" he added the last bit quickly less he thought he meant fathers side, and Vernon looked at him shocked before looking back to the road.

"I mean," he continued. "I don't know what happened to my other grandparents either, but you wouldn't have a clue about that, but..."

"Your grandfather is dead," he answered coolly. "He died protecting your grandmother from freaks!" he said the last coldly, which caused Harry to grimace as he pictured the Death Eaters attacking his family again. "I don't know where your grandmother is or even if she is still alive. I doubt she is or she would have come for you years ago!

"That old basket case who dumped you on our doorstep said you were safe with your blood. He would have surely taken you to her rather than us if she were still alive! Petunia had a falling out with your grandparents just before your... freak mother died! So I don't have much of a clue either!"

Harry went quiet after that as he thought about it. There was a part of him that hoped that his grandparents were alive. That maybe they had gone into hiding and Dumbledore didn't know they were alive, and they didn't know he was alive. That it was all a huge misunderstanding.

He sighed as he was feeling a little depressed so tried his luck with more conversation. "We're not all bad you know," he spoke quietly. "All I want is a normal life. You know. Make friends. Have fun. Be happy. Then maybe someday... a family of my own. But since joining the... freaks as you call us I've had to face my parents disembodied killer twice in my first year. Then in second a seventy foot killer snake whose look could kill, and the sixteen year old memory of my parents' killer."

"Why should I care?" Vernon asked as he tried not to look curious.

Harry shrugged his shoulders while thinking. "I guess you shouldn't," he replied thoughtfully. "I just I thought I would tell you from the point of view of a normal 'freak'," he used air quotes. "That we're not all that different if you discount the monsters and freakishness. I think that... did you ever meet my parents?" he turned around and asked.

Vernon was further shocked as they pulled off the carriageway and pulled to a stop by some traffic lights as they were red. He looked around at Harry. He hadn't expected the boy to be quite so intelligent.

"Yeah, I met them a couple times," he agreed as the light switched to green and he pulled across the roundabout.

"If you and Aunt Petunia had died, how would you have wanted them to treat Dudley?" he asked quietly, and Vernon flinched. The car swerved a small bit, but Harry had turned to watch the houses pass by as they drove passed towards the city.

His uncle never did answer that question. He just kept on driving until he found the shopping centre as the parking was cheapest, and it was their last stop so it would be easier to leave the car there.

Vernon hailed a taxi to take them to his favourite tailors. After paying the driver they entered the old store. It was immaculate with many expensive looking suits hanging up. The place used lots of varnished wood, and quite honestly Harry would expect a store like it to fit well in Diagon Alley.

"Vernon!"

Harry startled as the smiling old man came out from behind the checkout desk. He was grey on top with friendly brown eyes. He was wearing a pristine blue pinstripe suit. He was instantly shaking Vernon's hand before turning to Harry with a beaming smile.

"And this must be your son?" he asked as he was gesturing towards Harry.

"N-no," Vernon stuttered out. "I never can get Dudley to come with me. He's more worried about being a little rascal with his friends," he said which cause Harry to restrain rolling his eyes at either of those words to describe his cousin. "This is my nephew Harry."

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir!" Harry greeted politely offering his right hand to shake.

The tailor graciously accepted it, shaking. "The pleasure is all mine, Harry. It's nice that someone so young can appreciate some fine clothes," he said eying what he was wearing with a nod. "Quite the material used in your clothes, but it seems they've gotten a bit too small."

"Oh, yes sir," he said sheepishly. "I guess I've grown a bit since. I go to a boarding school for gifted children," he said eying his uncle. He looked pleased enough that he was doing a good job of making a good first impression. "This is a part of my uniform. It's the only thing that's really fitting well enough to wear out if you can believe it."

"Well you've come to the right place," he said, smiling as he turned to Vernon. "What a lovely change in pace," he said. "My grandson can be quite the handful, and he's around Harry's age... thirteen? You must be proud of him..." he said as he didn't notice how uncomfortable Harry had made the conversation for Vernon. "Well, what can I do for you fine gentlemen?"

"Right," Vernon said as he tucked up a smile on to his face. Harry felt it looked odd, not having seen that side of him before. "I need a new suit for a business meeting I have on Monday next week, and a couple new ones for work wouldn't go a miss. Then Harry as you can see really needs a new wardrobe, maybe some new shirts and trousers for next term would be a smart idea?"

"Of course, of course," he readily agreed. "I still have your sizes for that tux you bought two weeks ago so that will be easy. How about we deal with Harry's uniform first and get that out of the way, and I'll make it a little baggier than normal for room to grow. It will have to be delivered though as we would have to order in ties and extras. What materials are you permitted for school?" he asked the boy.

"Oh, well it doesn't say," he replied, shrugging. "The uniform list just says that its black trousers with white shirt. I guess they don't mean combats or cargo trousers or anything," he said impishly.

"I would think not," he replied laughing and shaking his head as he pulled out a notepad and pen. "Okay, and black shoes," he said looking to what Harry was wearing while he nodded. His uncle was just sitting to the side by now pretending he wasn't listening in. "What colour ties do you wear?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Oh, black and scarlet thick but not too thick in strips at a... I think to my perspective right angle," he said trying to describe his school tie while still trying to think of a fake name for his school if he was asked.

The man nodded as he opened a draw full of different kinds of ties before pulling out one that looked like it could be for a Ravenclaw with blue and black strips. "Like this one but scarlet instead of the royal blue?" he asked as Harry nodded, surprised. "I know, we have a selection of tie types most commonly worn by schools, everyone is surprised. What kind of jumpers do you normally have?"

"Black or grey," he answered. "With two scarlet rings around the neck and waist," he answered.

"Good, good," he said thoughtfully. "Does your school wear blazers or anything else? Does it need extras?"

"W-well if I were to wear a blazer I suppose it would be black, but I've never seen anyone wearing one," he replied while the man nodded. "But..." he wasn't sure whether he should ask, but sore no problem with security and whatnot. "My school is quite old fashioned and rather than a blazer we're required to wear long black robes, and at least have a winter cloak as well as a jacket."

"I see, a very posh school," he said with a smile. "I take it they have... houses for different groups of students and yours is crimson coloured?" he asked, and Harry nodded. "Do they allow robe and cloak linings to be house colours?"

"Oh, I forgot about that, but yeah," he replied sheepishly to the old man's humour. Harry was surprised uncle Vernon let him go on after he mentioned robes.

"Yes, yes, some nice satin would be a good option. It's not the strongest material, but its certainly not weak, and it will look exceptional, and feel very good on the skin," he suggested, turning to Vernon, he nodded. "Some underwear too, socks... boxers?" he guessed what Harry preferred as he didn't look like the more geeky client who would wear pants, and he guessed right at Harry's nod.

"Okay then, now that is sorted, nine sets I would figure, Vernon?" he asked, and though the man thought for a second he nodded anyway. "So, Harry, lets measure you up and get you into something more fitting, and becoming of a young man," he said leading Harry to a stool and standing him on it.

The man was more professional than the woman who usually did his uniform in the magical world. He took more measurements too. Soon he was staring in awe at his reflection in the body length mirror as he was in a slender black suit with slight black pinstripes. He had on new satin underwear and black cotton socks. His shirt was black, and his tie was black. He had on a pair of black leather shoes that were polished like mirrors. The whole outfit minus the shoes and socks was a soft and comfortable satin.

Even Vernon looked at him in surprise once he left the dressing room. He looked like he could have been designed to wear a nice suit like it. He didn't know what to say, not even to himself.

"I must say," the tailor said moving around Harry and checking the fit left some room for growth. "It's not every day that someone comes in and looks so vastly different while out of casual clothes."

"Can you take the labels off so he can wear it out?" Vernon asked politely. "We have quite a few places to get too and no need for him to wear clothes too small for him."

"Of course," he agreed, already pulling the tags off with a pair of scissors.

It didn't take long for Vernon to pay. He had bought, not including the school uniform that would arrive within the week, around seven suits for Harry, including the one he was wearing. Harry hadn't been able to believe the price. However, even more his uncle didn't even blink at the number, and even more paid it without trying to haggle.

Then after they left the tailors, more awing was Vernon didn't even moan at him. He had expected his uncle to say something, or want him to pay him back or something, but he didn't say anything as he led him to Specsavers.

The opticians were straight forward. Harry and Vernon had just been on time too; having spent so long at the tailors. Harry had gone through a full eye test and exam, and a new lens prescription was required.

He got to pick out two pairs of glasses as it was buy one get one free, and Vernon refused to let him take a free NHS pair for kids, as he wanted to impress on Marge that Harry was a part of their 'happy' family, so didn't want him in cheap glasses, even though they were much better than what he wore then.

It was amazing that the opticians were able, especially since it was a slow day, to get his glasses ready within a two hour slot. He was happy with that as Vernon bought them some lunch at the pub, but that only took an hour. They had time so Vernon decided they would shop first and he would stop, let Harry out to get his glasses and spin around the block to pick him up later.

Shopping for clothes was the easiest part once they arrived back at the shopping centre. It was massive. Vernon then knew his size from the tailor, so he bought him what he would need, from combats and cargos to track bottoms and shorts, and many different tee-shirts from superhero and villain to plane.

It was the technology they were both a bit dense with. He ended up with a forty inch 3D HD flat panel smart TV with built in freeview. It was on special offer, and came with a freeview HD 1tb digital/Blu-Ray recorder and wall mount bracket for free. It was only because of the special offer that it was bought.

Then was the cell phone, and it was called a Smartphone. It had a large touch screen: a Windows 8, Nokia, and Harry weren't sure what it was all about. His uncle set up a contract with his provider for unlimited minutes, texts, and 4g. He didn't get what that was all about but figured he could send Hedwig to his friend Hermione's for her phone number as she lived in the muggle world, and then they could talk over the phone when he figured it out.

His uncle dithered over a PlayStation 4 or the X-Box One for him before deciding PlayStation was cheaper so the more viable option. It came with a game so Harry figured it would be interesting figuring out how to play the new system.

Next up came the laptop; Vernon assured him that normal boys have one. Dudley apparently had one, so Harry shrugged. It was a sleek black system, and had a large screen with what the sales lady said was a powerful processor and duel core 8 ram something or other. It had windows 8 like his phone. He was baffled by it but his uncle being nice for once got him a few dummies guides.

After shopping they returned to Specsavers to collect Harry's new glasses. He had to hop out of the car to get them. The phone shop had shown him how to make calls on his new phone, and it had been quarter charged when it came out of its box. It was red in a red flip case for its safety, and the only number he had in the phone was his uncles to call when he was done.

He felt a bit more free since he was away from his uncle for a while when he walked up to reception and gave them his receipt for his glasses. The nice lady had returned in just a few minutes offering him the two sets. He had chosen the same frame for both as he liked them.

The lady helped adjust them both just right. He got to choose the colour of his new glasses cases. He managed to get the last two red cases. His glasses were silver framed, very thin around the lenses, with thick metal hands with a cut-out along them with red rubber around a centre piece. The metal; was apparently titanium, so with a little magic for them they would be unbreakable.

He looked at himself and couldn't help but feel odd. He had never known that even with his previous glasses his eyesight was that bad. It was good being able to see as well as he could.

Calling his uncle was easier than he thought. At least he wasn't ignorant enough to shout down the phone. He could just imagine most of his pureblood friends and smiled a little. He placed his cases in one of his bags once he got back into Vernon's car.

The trip back was much less talkative, but it wasn't really uncomfortable as they had had a long tiring day out.

_**to be continued... **_


	3. The Arrival

**Disclaimer: **_I'm now only using the disclaimer so the next chapter button up top doesn't push my story title over to your left to look untidy, but I suppose I don't actually own Harry Potter!_

**Harry Potter: 2013**

**Out of the Reign**

**Chapter III**

**The Arrival**

Harry had actually gotten used to the new arrangements around the house. His room had been painted a smoky cream colour. He had gotten a new bed, which was a double, with new bedding. His carpet was fluffy and dark blue.

He had two closets, one new, but he kept the old one as there was nothing wrong with it to keep his trunks with notice me not charms. The new one was a little larger, one of those cheap flat pack deals he was forced to fix up himself.

The bed was like that too, and goddess-bless his mother and her silencer or he would have never managed to get either done. He hadn't put them up for several hours while studying the sort of charms he never would have before hand to put them up. He hadn't thought about such chore-like spells as being so useful before, but they had plenty of uses.

The new closet was larger than his old one, and full to near bursting point with clothes. His uncle might have gone quite overboard. He was complaining a little, but other than that wasn't being too vocal. His new school uniform had even arrived, and Harry had to admit when he had received the new Gryffindor patches to put on with some new spells he learnt that they were the smartest robes he had ever seen.

Harry had a new chest of draws he built up because the old one was in tatters, also full of tee shirts, track bottoms, boxers, and socks. He even had brand new curtains in his room. They were blue to match his carpet and bedding.

He had cleared out the room and threw most of Dudley's old crap away. He actually found a perfectly useable (once he fixed it) bookshelf the buffoon had broken. He had never been more thankful that the fixing things charm was so simple to use over and over again. It saved plenty of things that weren't electronic. It didn't seem to know how to deal with those things, they were too complicated.

The bookcase was stacked with books and comics of the muggle variety, which would add to the special school for smart kids look they had agreed to go for. Then he had plenty of things to read when not doing other things like reading his mothers journals. He had expected his father to lead an amusing life, but he had found that his mother wasn't a bore either.

Under the window looking out on the world of Privet Drive was his laptop on a nicely varnished wooden desk that he had fixed up.

It had taken him a while to figure out his computer and his phone. Setting up his first ever email address he realised that his laptop and phone could sync up, and this thing called the cloud with his Windows account could hold and secure useful files for him to access anywhere.

He had a blue-tooth printer attached (it had been Dudley's but he had apparently dumped it that Christmas in his room for some reason, likely too lazy to figure it out). It made him feel good to use Word 2013 (which surprisingly came as a free gift with his lap top) to do his school homework printed on paper.

Harry had gotten good at typing. It was easier and more fun than using a quill and inkwell. Not to mention not messy. It made his writing neater and easier to understand, not to mention he did more than he thought would be clever. He didn't get writers cramps while typing.

Playing PlayStation was fun, and he could watch TV as much as he wanted. He dressed well, and everything was quite good. He had never realised how much he had missed, even after all the magic. He loved all of the gadgets and games, and everything else, especially his new phone so he could communicate at any time.

However, as they say, all good things eventually end. Aunt Marge was due in a few hours, set to ruin the peace that had come the past few weeks at the Dursley's home. Dudley had even started acting less douchy after a warning from his mother and father about making the 'happy family' thing look real.

Harry had chosen a nice black suit without a tie for a more casual smart look. He wore a white shirt and black belt and shoes. He had even used hair gel to neaten his hair back nicely with only a few errant strands over his forehead.

He was sitting at his desk in the comfortable office chair reading one of his mothers' journals to keep his mind off things. He had read a few and learnt some spells from some of her year one and year two books as he went over them. He had realised he hadn't learnt hardly anything because all he cared about was what was taught in class, not studying anything else.

He just hoped that he had caught up enough with the spells he had learnt. He had just started on his new third year books, as well as potions year one to three. He wanted to get one over on the idiot potion teacher if he could.

Sighing he skimmed through the book for something fun to read. It was her year three book, and even though young she was still quite smart. It made him feel as if he had something to prove. He wanted more of a connection to his mother than just the same eye colour, and he knew he wasn't as stupid as he had been.

_I had only been on the Hogwarts Express for ten minutes and that annoying Potter boy and his friends turned up and got on my nerves for a while before eventually taking the NOT at all subtle hints to go away._

_I had been in the carriage with my friend Alice for a while. We were talking about girly things as we tended to do when it was just us. I was glad Severus wasn't with us. I enjoyed hanging with Alice and having some girl time. You can't do that with a boy hanging around, unless he's gay... I wonder... Severus does come off that way, maybe I'll ask him when he's older and sure._

Harry burst out into tears of laughter. "Oh my word," he said chuckling as he had read some later entries where his mother wouldn't accept Snape's date invites because she wasn't attracted to him (though she let him down nicer than that). He only skimmed them, so maybe she thought he was kidding himself and she was trying to get him to come out.

He wondered whether she ever did actually confront him. It would be the greatest ammo ever offered to him. He shrugged then as he wasn't at school yet anyway, so looked back to the journal as she continued her ramblings about her trip.

_It must have been halfway through the trip to Hogwarts when 'she' turned up. Kennedy. She was the most annoying Slytherin ever. She had the largest and most adorable grin ever as she happily asked whether she could sit with me, and sat anyway, right up in my personal space... she was kind of creepy, but not in any bad way... I hope..._

Harry startled as he heard his phone ringing. It was a tune by Lily Alan. It was something called Roar. He just couldn't get the blasted song out of his head, and couldn't remember how to change the ring tone. He would have to check the instructions again. He had already suffered over a week with Blurred Lines in his head.

"Stupid catchy tunes!" he grumbled to himself as he picked up his red coloured phone.

He looked at the screen as it was lit up. The phone was vibrating and playing the tune. He saw it said 'Hermione' with her picture above the name. He half wished that he never gave her his number.

She called everyday to talk to him about everything and anything she had done, and ask him about his homework to compare notes, and she was getting impressed with his new study ethic, which made her call more, or email and text him.

Hermione had been quite awed that he had actually finished his homework, and done some extra credit before her, so she had to catch up with him. He doubted she print hers out, but used quill and ink. She wouldn't want to try anything different, even a pen when she believed that the teachers (minus Snape) would care as long as it was done well.

Harry understood why she called him so much. She didn't have any muggle friends either, and got lonely. When he gave her his cell phone number she latched on with all the glee of a girl getting a lifeline.

Her lack of friends was more that she was a bit much, bossy, and too into books. The other kids couldn't relate to that. Harry's lack of friends was his bullying douche bag cousin Dudley. He had became quite the well know, must avoid bully, in the neighbourhood, and nobody would blame the other kids.

Sighing, instead of pressing the red ignore button he pressed the green answer button and brought the phone to his ear. "Yes, Hermione?" he asked, exasperated. He had told her his aunt was coming that day and that he would call her that evening to tell her all about it.

"Did you hear that the Weasley's won some money on some competition?" she asked, straight to the point. "I was just reading it in the Daily Prophet now, but Ron sent-."

"You know I suspended my subscription... to both," he replied, rolling his eyes, pleased she couldn't see him. "I also told them not to owl me for the next two weeks while I have to pretend to be normal. But otherwise that is good news. After everything that happened last year with Ginny... well... I just hope that she's doing okay.

"We sent a few letters back and forth, she says she's doing okay, but if she is anything like me-," he said sighing.

Hermione made a noise of humour. "Then she's lying because she doesn't want to be a bother," she interrupted. "I know you mean well and want to look out for her since those silly brothers of hers are useless, but I think you need to give her time to come around. She'll likely be more open to talking in person, so she won't likely tell you much in a letter. It can be difficult writing things down for some people."

"Okay, I get it but-," he paused for a moment before continuing. "I wasn't much of a friend after everything that we went through and I just want to be there for her. I don't normally have that myself, and I know you're here for me, but experiencing, and sharing that is different to trying to understand.

"I guess... in a way I want someone to talk to too," he said thoughtfully. "I know you say 'talk to me' but it's not the same. I also know you think I should talk to Dumbledore, but he is an old man, and quite honestly sometimes I just... I get the urge that he needs a smack.

"I don't want to be here anymore than I would want to hang around in a dragons nest," he said laughing. "But Dumbledore sent me here and doesn't care about... I don't know!" he sighed tiredly. "Maybe I'm thinking too far into this, but I've wondered what would have happened if I ever ran away, or called child services."

"Harry!" Hermione reprimanded. "Dumbledore wouldn't do anything like that. It would be against the law... okay, maybe he has made some mistakes and thinks he's doing right and doesn't ask you or... well. He is only human, and humans screw up all the time. Maybe if you talk to him, tell him how you feel."

"Maybe, I suppose," he replied doubtfully while internally shrugging. He would have to look up Dumbledore in his mother journals. "So... anyway, how is Hedwig doing...?" he asked to change the subject.

"For the last time Harry she is fine," she answered with a sigh as he had sent his owl to stay with her until Marge had gone as Hermione didn't have a post owl, and anything that would go to him could go to her. Hedwig would also be following her on holiday. If it were important she could forward it the muggle way, or if it were a note, over the phone or in a text or email.

"Sheesh, just checking... I worry," he said, laughing while he could nearly hear her eye roll as he joked. "Anyway, has Ron told you what they're going to do with the money?" he asked, as he was curious. If he were in their position, saving it for school would be the best option as they're so poor it would be a lifesaver.

"Not saving it," she replied as if she heard his thoughts on the matter. "They're taking a trip to Egypt to visit Bill Weasley. He's the eldest son if you had forgotten. I suppose it's not too bad. Though, I think Mr. Weasley should think about getting a promotion or something. Ron says he refuses so that he can play with muggle things, which is crazy when these muggle things tend to be decades out of date. If he had more money from a better job he could buy muggle things."

"Yeah, and you haven't properly met the man," He replied, laughing. "First time I met him he asked me what a rubber duck was for. I hadn't thought he was serious but apparently he was."

He heard Hermione laughing. "Weird one for sure," she answered after a few moments. "Anyway, I'll let you go... Skype me when you get away from that mean aunt and her stupid dog. Maybe we should introduce it to Fluffy and see how it deals then!" she said, and he regretting telling her about the vicious Ripper, but Fluffy would put it in its place, or eat it.

"Yeah," he agreed with a small smile. "Hopefully I can get away. If not I'll be back by at least eight tonight, hopefully."

"Well bye, Harry, and good luck," she said.

"Thanks, I'll need all the luck I can get," he said before hanging up his phone and placing it in the inside pocket of his jacket as it was fully charged. He had tried playing out how he would deal with Marge in his head, but the real thing was nerve wrecking. He had so many bad memories dealing with her.

Stretching his muscles he froze as he heard the doorbell ring. He quivered as he tried taking some deep breaths. He took his mothers journal and slid it into his desks top draw out of sight. He checked his wand in its holster, just in case. He had sent off for that after getting a catalogue from a shop Hermione knew sold them.

He had sent her one as a late birthday present as he had only gotten her chocolate that year as he had an unfortunate time of remembering birthdays unless reminded, and she was too nice and shy to do that. She had appreciated the sentiment that he cared enough to dwell on it for so long.

His holster had plenty of charms so muggles couldn't notice it strapped under his left sleeve. He wore it upside down as it felt more comfortable under his arm rather than over it like normal.

Moving to his door he felt like he was meeting a death sentence. He left his room and trekked down the stairs where the front door had been opened and Vernon and Petunia had been greeting the large woman with curly brown hair while Vernon slipped Dudley (in his cheap suit from online) a twenty pound note to let her kiss his cheek.

The woman's fat black coloured dog was on a brown leather leash, and he could have smiled that Petunia hated it as much as he did. It barked, announcing his presence, and Marge turned to him. She looked like the snide comment was on the tip of her tongue and fell off.

"Aunt Marge," he said with a smile. "It is a pleasure to see you and Ripper looking so well," he said. He was surprised she didn't seem to notice that he couldn't suppress any of the sarcasm. "Allow me to take Ripper and see whether he would enjoy a fresh bowl of water, and a run around in the garden. I'm sure he could use it after travelling all that way in the car.

"Duds, why don't you take Aunt Marge's bags upstairs to the spare room while I do that," he said while taking the leash from the surprised woman and a look from Vernon made Dudley comply, though Harry heard a few grumbles as he walked the surprisingly obedient dog to the kitchen.

He remembered Hagrid said that animals respected confidence. He just had to give off the air of the alpha with the annoying dog. He got the spare dog bowl Petunia kept in case Marge ever forgot his and expected her dog to eat and drink from a human bowl. Harry then took a bottle of water from the fridge; Petunia had gotten for the mutt and took him out back.

Harry released the dog from its leash and poured water into its bowl before speaking to it while no one was around. "Okay, Ripper... maybe you can't understand me, maybe magic around me lets you get the gist, or maybe nothing, but mess with me dog and I'll neuter you myself!"

He was surprised the dog whined, but Harry shrugged and left him to whatever, returning through the backdoor where Marge eyed him shrewdly. "So boy!" she said. She wasn't polite, but not overly rude. "Vernon and Petunia have been telling me how well you've changed. They said that the schools around here weren't smart enough for you. You got bored easily and started trouble, but now you've gotten better? Started a school for smart children...!"

"Yes Aunt Marge, I'm doing much better now," he agreed, smiling at her.

"I don't believe a rotten apple can change!" she said to her brothers and Petunia's worry.

"I do," he replied with his smile still in place, even though it was a bit forced. "I believe that anyone could change. It's up to whether they want too. You can't change the past, but you can change the future."

"But the past should still be in effect," she retorted smugly. "A killer should still be punished for his crime."

"Yes, he should," he replied with a shrug. "But I'm not a killer," he replied as he turned to his uncle. "If you will excuse me Uncle Vernon, I have some homework I could add to for some extra credit rather than debating whether or not a person can change if they choose too," he said before walking away.

He had half expected her to call him back as she wasn't the type of person who liked to lose. Harry enjoyed walking away from her and saying he didn't care what she thought without saying it. He had never snubbed anyone before. It was a novel experience.

Sitting at his desk he grabbed his blu-tooth mic and earpiece, (also a unopened throwaway of Dudley's), placing it on as he signed into Skype. It said Hermione was online, so clicked on video call since he had a built in camera.

Her smiling face came up on screen straight away. She was wearing a normal wired headset on her long brown crinkly hair. "Wow Harry. That was really quick. Did everything go okay or not?"

"Not quite sure yet, but she let me leave," he replied while shrugging. "Anyway, I wanted to ask. Did you send back your elective form yet? I don't think we have to until the end of July, right?"

"Yeah, I sent mine back, thirty first is due date," she readily agreed eagerly. "What electives are you taking anyway? I kept meaning to ask but with your Aunt Marge coming round and you moping about it I didn't get too."

"Oh, right, Athermancy and Runes," he replied. "I would have added magical creatures but I wasn't confident enough that I thought I could squeeze that into any study schedule. It would be left till last and waste everyone's time."

"That's okay Harry. You've chosen the more important classes rather than Ron's 'go with the easy classes' route'," she answered thoughtfully. "Anyway, I told you mum and dad are taking me to France for the week skiing, but I should be able to Skype."

"Can I come?" he asked out of nowhere. "I can pay, anything but having to suffer all of this. I can do the skiing for the both of us!"

"Sorry Harry," she said sadly. "If you said at the beginning of the holiday I could have convinced mum and dad, but that is way too last minute. I know you want to get away from your aunt but would France even be far enough away?" she joked playfully.

"Probably not," he reluctantly agreed. "Well, anyway... want to play me at that online battle ships again?" he asked as they had nothing better to do.

"You're so on, I'm logging in now!" she said while he was opening his browser when he turned on the TV and changed the channel to play the game on the TV while leaving Hermione up on his laptop monitor. "You're doing that TV thing again aren't you," she playfully sulked.

"Much better on the larger screen," he playfully agreed.

_**to be continued...**_


End file.
